


In Your Orbit

by Evee_chan



Category: In the Bleak Midwinter (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Omega being a hopeless romantic, boiled chicken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evee_chan/pseuds/Evee_chan
Summary: Anya-centric drabbles that may or may not make sense oops
Relationships: Anya/Omega
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Bandaids and Boiled Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for more! I'll write drabbles here and there and add tags as I go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya X Omega  
> Plotless fluff really.. enjoy the boiled chicken shenanigans inspired by [perhapsless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsless/pseuds/perhapsless)

Pot set on the stove, Omega moves on to the vegetables. There’s carrots, celery and cucumber to cut. Cooking isn’t something he enjoys doing but it’s a must if he wants to survive. Delta isn’t here today, which is a small victory. Each time he had walked into the kitchen he had something new to say to Omega. 

_Don’t cut it so unevenly._ _Why are you boiling it?_ _What in god’s name_ ** _ **is**_** _that?_

He sighs. Somehow despite all of Delta’s nagging and attempts to teach Omega, there was hardly a time where something worked. The moment Delta looked away something would stick, or burn, or utensils would break. At least the kitchen hasn’t been set on fire yet.

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

Each slice of the carrot looks a bit mangled, but it’s fine. It’s not like he’s cooking for Gordon Ramsy or anything, so long as it’s edible and he isn’t going to poison himself.

“What are you doing?”

A voice snaps the cyborg out of his musings and his hand slips. Sharp knife meets battle worn hands and the sharp blade wins. With a curse on his lips he spins around to find Anya staring at him with curious eyes.

“Well,” Omega hisses. “I _was_ cooking until you came along.” His hand throbs as he waves it at her, blood dripping down to his wrist.

“Oh my god I’m sorry I--” Anya fumbles for his wrist to hold his hand up to the light and get a better look.

It’s not really that big a deal, from the throbbing and itching he can already feel the wound is stitching itself back up.

She tugs on his wrist, leading him to the sink. “You’ve got to clean it up quickly, or else you’re gonna heal over whatever stuff you have stuck in your wounds. I thought you learned that already.” Anya huffs.

Omega hums in reply. She’s making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be, he’s had worse injuries. It’s cute though, how focused she is on tending to his wound. The water is cool against his hand as it rinses away the blood and bits of carrot stuck to him but the gentleness of Anya’s grip makes his head spin. His hands, ones that have maimed and killed tangle with hers promised to save and protect.

Water shuts off and a soft kitchen towel is pressed to his hand. There’s a grin on Anya face when she exclaims, “I know what will make it heal faster!”

When Anya digs around in her pocket to pull something out with a flourish, it makes Omega’s heart beat faster, seeing a smile creasing the corners of her eyes and the pure joy he sees in her. It’s a bandaid, he sees when she’s done putting it on for him. A bandaid plastered all over with puppies and he can’t resist the smile full of fondness that tugs at his lips. He doesn’t want to. She’s the only one to fill his heart so easily with such simple gestures and who is he to deny it any longer.

_He loves her._

“You know I don’t need that for such a small injury.” Omega says instead. There’s many more things he wishes he could say, but doesn’t.

Instead he clasps her hand, the one that so tenderly patched him up and slowly tugs her closer. He’s giving her time to pull back, to look at him with a ‘no’ resounding in the oceans of her eyes but there’s nothing like that. She gazes at him with nothing but warmth and affection as he draws her in. Arms settle on her waist and hers loop around his neck, like it was meant to fit there perfectly. Perhaps they were, with the matching glowing numbers they have on their wrists.

Before he can think about how truly sappy it is, Omega connects to the speaker system in the living room and throws on a playlist. It’s a soft and lilting thing, ebbing and flowing as he holds Anya close. Just a slight pressure of his hands against her waist sends them both swaying side to side to the music. Here in their shared space and shared breath in the small kitchen, time seems to stop around them. There’s mutual understanding not yet spoken into words, hanging in the air between them.

The boiling chicken burns.


	2. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. - Maya Angelou
> 
> In which Omega just stops to admire

One moment, one more instant that takes his breath away. It seems Anya is good at doing that, while doing nothing at all. The sun rises as it always does, the wind whips as it always has, cold fingers tearing at skin yet somehow it’s special here in this single moment with her, frozen in time.

The warmth of her skin glows in the light spilling from the horizon. It paints yellows, reds, golds like an artist’s brush upon her. Like an ocean of greens and blues sparkling with life. It’s like everything he isn’t. Everything he dreamed of, so close yet so far from his grasp.

Little moments like these, oblivious to his awe, he files them away. He holds them close to his heart like at any moment those luminescent pools will cloud and fade and nothing will be left.


End file.
